Harry Gets Lucky
by slantedknitting
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione drunkenly escape from a post-war party. Brief Ron/Hermione. Mostly Ron/Harry slash.


Harry's lips were twitching in an effort not to laugh as Ron drunkenly confessed to Hermione that he and Lavender had done more than just kissing. Harry knew how far Ron and Lavender had gone, and, though he didn't like to think about it much, he knew that Ron was lying out his arse when he had said an hour ago that he was a virgin.

Hermione looked deeply confused.

"Hermione, I'm sorry." Ron's eyes darted to Harry and Harry blinked back. As Ron tried to react to Hermione's gushing seas of emotions, his eyes moved frantically between his girlfriend and his best mate. Harry watched, his spirits sinking. Ron often looked at him differently when he was drunk, looked at Harry like he was the lifejacket keeping Ron alive. Harry didn't know what the looks meant. He only knew what he wanted them to mean.

Hermione kissed Ron to shut him up and Harry looked away. He wasn't drunk enough to watch that. He wasn't drunk enough to do much – he didn't like losing himself to alcohol. He didn't trust himself enough to do that. Clearing his throat, he turned and looked at the wallpaper. He wanted to leave, but couldn't. There was a party going on, an end-of-the-war party, and he and his friends had escaped together. If he went back by himself, the partiers wanting to thank him and toast to him would attack. He couldn't face that alone, especially not sober.

Realizing that his friends had probably forgotten his presence, Harry turned back around to face them. What he saw made him wish that he had never come up here with them in the first place, no matter how much he hated being singled out at parties. Ron was flopped down on his bed, his knees bent over the side. He was angled up on his elbows and watching Hermione lick cautiously around his erection.

Harry blinked, paralyzed, terrified and disgusted.

"Fuck, Harry!" Ron looked up at the movement from Harry's corner and grabbed Hermione's head, using it to shield the view of his cock.

"I'm just… leaving," Harry mumbled, reaching heavily for the doorknob.

"No!" Hermione turned and stood dizzily, exposing a flustered Ron. "Don't go, Harry."

"Um," Harry chuckled nervously, "yeah, I'm leaving."

Hermione grabbed her wand and hexed the door before Harry could turn the knob.

"You're not going anywhere. You hate parties!"

"I hate this more, Hermione, please, let me go!" Harry panicked and yanked on the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn.

"Here." Hermione grabbed the bottle of firewhisky and shoved it into Harry's chest. "Take it, take it!" Harry's hands released the door and held the bottle against his stomach. "Stay with us, please?"

"Hermione," Harry said, clutching the bottle and trying to stay calm, "you're drunk, Ron's half naked, and I desperately, desperately want to leave. _Please_, let me out of here."

"I need you to show me how to give Ron a blowjob!"

Harry blinked. His mind raced, trying to make sense of Hermione's drunken outburst. Not looking at Ron, he tilted his head back and took a long swig of firewhisky.

"What?"

"Come on." Hermione grabbed one of Harry's hands and pulled him back over to the bed, where Ron was still lying, exposed. "Show me."

To Harry's surprise, Ron was making no objections. In fact, Ron was staring up at Harry with desperate eyes that had Harry's pants tightening.

"Um…"

"Please, Harry." Hermione reached for the bottle and took such a long gulp that Harry thought she might drown. When she was done, she took another. "Show me."

"What makes you think I know how?" Harry demanded, tearing his eyes away from Ron's enticing erection.

"You're a boy," she said in her best sober-Hermione impression, "you know what would feel good if someone gave you a blowjob. Right?" Harry nodded hopelessly. "So show me."

"Ron?" Harry dared to meet Ron's lusty blue eyes.

"Show the woman!" Ron fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. Harry bit his lip. Ron was kind of a lightweight. Harry was, too, but Ron had had at least twice as much.

"Well," Harry said, then gulped and eyed Ron's cock, "first, you… you should– "

"_Show_ me," Hermione insisted, sitting next to Ron's feet and looking up at Harry. Harry got on his knees between Ron's legs and put his hands on Ron's pale thighs.

"Fuck," Harry breathed against Ron's erection and Ron shivered.

"Do it, Harry." Ron's voice was strained with desire and want and something else that Harry couldn't quite identify.

"Fuck," Harry muttered again before taking the head of Ron's cock into his mouth. Ron sighed heavily and shifted his hips, trying to force more of himself into Harry's mouth. Ignoring Hermione's inquiring eyes, Harry moved his hands up and held Ron tightly to the bed. He took in Ron's scent and moaned quietly against Ron's throbbing cock. Ron tensed as Harry slid his lips further down his cock. Harry folded his tongue back and rubbed the bottom of Ron's head as it brushed the back of his mouth.

"Fuck, Harry," Ron groaned and reached to run his fingers over Harry's neck. Harry shivered and moaned at the contact. He pulled his cheeks tighter and sucked roughly on Ron, quickly pulling the climax out of him. Ron grunted weakly as his muscles tensed and he released into Harry's warm mouth. Harry sat back as soon as he could and swallowed. Lifting his eyes slowly, Harry met Ron's appreciative gaze.

"I couldn't tell what your tongue was doing, Harry, but I think I got the idea." Hermione was staring hungrily at Ron's still-hard cock.

Harry blinked and looked at her. She was moving closer, wrapping a hand around Ron. Moving out of her way and standing, Harry grabbed the firewhisky and ran for the door. When he found it still locked, he grabbed Hermione's wand and silently unlocked it. Without a glance back at Hermione or Ron, Harry ran desperately from the room, choking back a sob.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning in the Weasleys' garden, lying under the tree where he'd passed out the night before. Groaning and rubbing his aching head, he sat up wearily and groped around on the ground for his wand. It wasn't there, but his empty bottle of firewhisky was. He lay back down, wishing he had a pillow or at least a softer bit of dirt.

"Morning, sunshine."

Harry opened his eyes again and looked up at Ginny. He grunted in response and held up his arm. She grabbed it and helped him to his feet.

"What time is it?"

"Noon. Did you know it took us four hours to find you?" Ginny let got of Harry's hand and crossed her arms.

"Uh… no, no, I didn't know that. Why did it take you four hours to find me?" Harry watched her angry expression, wondering if he should make a run for it.

"You cast a shielding spell over yourself before you passed out, you bastard."

"Sorry!" Harry took a step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I was pissed, Ginny. I don't even remember coming outside last night."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny led him inside. "Get upstairs and get dressed."

Harry turned away from her and headed up the stairs to Ron's room. As he reached the door, memories from the previous night flooded his mind. Ron naked, Hermione begging, and… him… him pressed against Ron, sucking and licking. And Ron's warm fingers on the back of his neck.

"Oh, fuck." Harry froze with his hand on the doorknob, staring at the door in horror.

"Harry, is that you?" Ron's voice came from inside the room.

Harry drew his hand back and turned to run back down the stairs, but Ron had opened the door, grabbed his arm, and pulled him inside. As Ron let go of Harry, he shut the door and bolted it shut. Harry looked around. Hermione wasn't there.

"Ron, look, listen," Harry said, staring at his feet, "about last night, I, well, I'm sorry. I was drunk, mate, really… really sloshed, and, I… Hermione asked me to… honestly." He winced at how pathetic he sounded.

Ron didn't respond. Harry shifted awkwardly and put his hands in his jeans pockets, still looking down at his own feet.

"Harry." Ron's toes moved into view.

"Where is Hermione anyway?"

"Harry."

"Is she in the kitchen eating lunch?"

"Harry."

"I could use some lunch, myself."

"Harry."

"Well, fucking what, Ron?" Harry lifted his head and glared into Ron's calm blue eyes. "I suck your dick and all you can say is my name?"

Ron frowned nervously. Harry gulped, trying to ignore the obvious emotions on Ron's face and in Ron's eyes. "Harry… Hermione didn't know, mate, she didn't know that you… she didn't mean to upset you."

"Shut up." Harry clenched his fists in his pockets. "Shut up, Ron. I don't want to hear this. I don't need to hear this."

"You do." Ron took another step forward and placed his hands on Harry's tense shoulders. "I promise you do."

Harry pursed his lips with fear and angry. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone,' Ron? Gone where?" Harry stepped out of reach and Ron dropped his arms.

"Gone… gone home, mate. She left this morning."

"Why?"

"I asked her to." Harry shook his head and tried to make a break for the door. Ron stopped him. "She wanted to, also. We, um… we're not… together, mate."

"'Course you are," Harry muttered, staring down at their feet, "you… love each other."

"I love you." Ron's voice was quiet but clear.

Harry shook his head again and backed away. "You – you love Hermione. You love girls. You – you fucked Lavender. A thousand times, you fucked her. You probably fucked Hermione last night."

"Stop talking like that. Harry, would you just listen to me? I love you. I love you. I love you." Ron stepped closer and wrapped a hand around the back of Harry's neck. Harry tensed. "I've always loved you, Harry. Always. Lavender… Lavender was just to get my sister to shut up. Things got out of hand before I could end it, and… I regret it. Really, I do."

"And Hermione?" Harry huffed.

"I love Hermione." Ron put his other hand on Harry's shoulder as he tried to move away. "She's my friend. She's a really good friend. A really good friend. I never felt as strongly about her as I do about you. But… I'm not… I wasn't supposed to feel that way about a bloke, about my best mate… about you. I focused on her instead. Fuck, Harry, can't we do the talking later?"

"Erm…" Harry looked bravely up into Ron's eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can you?" Harry managed a quivering smile.

"May I kiss you, you bloody git?"

Instead of answering, Harry flung his arms around Ron and crushed their lips together. Ron stumbled backwards and fell onto his bed, pulling Harry down with him. Harry braced his hands on either side of Ron and sucked on his tongue desperately.

"Harry–"

"Shut up."

"Harry–"

"Shut up."

"Harry!" Ron pushed Harry away gently. "Stop telling me to shut up."

Harry nodded and licked his lips. "Well?"

"I was going to say… I can… I can do… get on your back." Ron fought the blush on his cheeks by forcing Harry onto his back.

"What are you… oh, oh, Ron, fuck." Harry bit his lip as Ron's fingers fumbled with the button on his pants. After a moment, Harry's pants were on the floor and Ron was looking down at him with desire, want, longing, and love.

"Is this okay?" Ron asked quietly, wrapping his long fingers around Harry's hardening cock.

"More than okay." Harry smiled and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe his luck.


End file.
